Timeless
by Sparrowhawk1952
Summary: The boys are thrown back in time...again...by Metatron as a way to get them out of his hair to 1864...with no way back.
1. Chapter 1

Where do you stick the Winchesters when you want to get rid of them and are pretty sure they wont be able to find their way back? (especially since their little slave angel Cas is not exactly doing their bidding at the moment) These were the thoughts Metatron had when plotting his next move and all it took was a snap of the fingers...

Sam woke up first...he smelled the dirt, and a camp fire not far off, sweet spring grass..he frowned...odd dream as he had been sleeping in his bed in the bunker. He sat up...this was definately *not* the bunker...it was a grassy spot in the middle of the woods. "Dean!" He hissed, poking the grumpy lump not far from him with his foot..

"Lemme lone." he growled.

"Dean wake up, we're not..." He swallowed, did he have to be cheesy? "We're not in Kansas anymore."

Dean sat up groggily, "What the hell?" Outside the tree line was an encampment of white tents, a fire in the middle with a few men in gray uniforms milling about. "Where the hell are we?" He stood up, dawn was breaking in the east and towards that way he saw what looked like a little town. They both looked down, they were still in normal clothes.

"I dont know Dean, maybe...I dont know." Sam got up and headed for the town, his intstincts telling him that was a wiser decision then the camp of grey backs who were now rising a Reb flag in the early morning sun. Dean followed him, his hand on some hidden weapon as they breached the trees...

"Ah shit." Dean groused...

"yeah...either we're outside a living history community..."  
"Or we've been thrown back in time. Again. Fucking angels..I wont poop for weeks."

Sam had to smirk...flickers of his brother were still in the hardened Dean he'd seen for the past few weeks. "Lets just try to blend in so they don't kill us, k Dean?" Thankfully the soft pants they wore to bed and their white undershirts did more to blend in then their normal clothes, but they were barefoot...whoever had thrown them back had picked a shitty time.

They headed down the little bank to the back of some buildings, trying to keep out of site, looking for some house, shop anything to duck into and check out. There was a building that sat on the end of the little main street, white, square with a wrap around porch...being isolated from other buildings it was a good target, looked like a hotel but they didnt want to risk going around front yet, not with the amount of people milling about even at this early hour.

They moved to the door, both going for it at the same time and giving each other looks, "Look in the window." Sam hissed, Dean growled at him and moved, mumbling something about getting splinters,

"Its a kitchen." He hised back to his brother, "Nothing modern, theres a black woman making breakfast and I smell coffee." His stomach growled unceremoniously.

Just as Sam's hand went to knock the door opened and a redhead in nothing but a low cut shift looked up at him in shocked surprise, he expected...he didnt know what he expected but what she said wasn't it.

"We're closed, dumb ass, come back at five...and use the front door." She almost shut it on him but he put his hand out,

"Wait..wait...we're..my brother and I we...we're lost..."

She quirked a brow and looked him up and down in a appraising and rather unappreciative way, "In your under things...you're either drunk or runnin' from the army."

"Neither trust me" Sam snuffed. Dean came up behind him and gave her the ol' Dean grin...which faded fast at her quirked seen-it-all-cowboy look.

"My brother's right." He cleared his thraot, "We woke up in the woods, we think our friends mighta dumped us off, played a trick on us..we just...need some clothes."

The girl leaned against the doorframe, oddly knowing that the smell of bacon and eggs was doing more to tempt this men then her ample bosom that was defined by her crossed arms. "Really. And you think a bath-house has man clothes." Her accent had a soft Irish lilt to it.

Dean furrowed his brow, "Well...don't they?"

"Dean." Sam nudged him..

THe girl raised her brows, looking at Sam,"Is your brother of the special sort? I had a cousin like that bless his heart." She drawled, "We aint got nothin but dresses. But come in.." She sighed resignedly, "I reckon one ofus can scrounge up something for you ... can't be walkin around in your under clothes...aint seemly." She moved back into the kitchen, she was severely dwarfed by the two of them, barely topping five foot two if that. "Stay in the kitchen, " She said, "You're lucky our boss is gone fro the week...she don't take kindly to takin in strangers on work weeks."

The cook seved them up plates with out a word, with two full tin cups of hot coffee that tasted like ambrosia to Dean but was way to strong for Sam, he coughed it down anyway.

It wasnt until five other girls filed into the kitchen and around the table in varying stages of dress that the light bulb clicked on for Dean and he grinned...they were landed in a goddamn whore house. They didnt really pay much attention to either man, except the small black haired girl who *stared* at their clothes and Sam's hair.

After the meal was finished the girls filed out of the kitchen and doors were heard being shut as they went to their rooms to dress, the redhead returned, dressed in a pretty brown print, pretty respectable looking for a whore, her hair was tied back in a ribbon. "Ok, stand up let me see what to getcha...I'll go acros the street to the fancy store bought clothes." They pushed back their chairs obediently...she was authoritative, small, beautiful...Sam couldnt take his eyes off of her..she was fragile...like she didnt belong in this place.

She circled them, "Whats your names?" She nodded when they answered, her tiny hands measuring shoulders, arms, backs, Sam clenched his jaw...it had been too long and her nonsexual touch was doing Dean like things to him. "Spread 'em." She said, professionally measuring their inseams, Sam was impressed with how maturally Dean was taking this and jumped as a little girl ran into the room..

"Anna! Get out of here." The woman snapped at her, the tiny child stopped and looked up at them,

"I'm sorry Auntie Amber." She said quietly, turning to go.

Amber sighed, "Sorry..I don't know you two...and she doesnt know strangers." Her eyes didnt meet theirs but they both understood her protective tone. "Ok..you can either wait here in the kitchen with Abbie." She indicated the cook " Or you can wait in my room...like I said, we dont open for business til five but sometimes men have bath appointments in the daytime." She looked at Dean when he quirked a brow, "Real...baths...Dean. " She shook her head ith a smile.

"We'll uh...we'll wait down here.' Sam decided for them. "We don't want to intrude in your space."

Amber smiled and it was beautiful, a little sad when she looked at him, "All right then." And left with a black man to do her errands for them.

Sam cleared his throat as he sat back down on the bench, "Uh..Abbie, is it?"

"Yessir" The older woman said, still about her business.

"Could...could you tell us what year it is?" He said in a small tone, Abbie looked at him like he *was* special...

"1864 Master Sam..." She said, "You boys get hit on the head?"

"Something like that." Dean muttered...


	2. Chapter 2

Amber returned about a half hour later with simple shirt, pants, suspenders, socks and boots. "Not a lot to choose from right now, with the war on." She said, "Follow me." She said, leading them upstairs to the first room on the right, it was white inside, with lacy curtains that flutterd in the breeze from the open window, it was soft, feminine...clean. Sam felt like a bull in a china shop, and Dean was clearly impressed over the improvement from the last time travel brothel they'd stopped at.

"You two look like you nevr seen a bedroom before." Amber mused, leaning against the door frame, "Go ahead and change, if you got any questions about anything I'll be downstairs in the kitchen helpin Anna with her schoolwork." She shut the door behind her.

The guys reached for the clothes, stripping with their backs to one another and away from the window.."Seems kinda strange they arent more curious" Dean mused.

"Well, it is the middle of a war, they probably see weird stuff all the time." Sam said, pulling on the long breeches...damn they were pretty comfortable...roomy in the inseam like a good pair of baggy jeans, he ran his hand over the leg..he figured clothes would be more rough back in this day, wool

"Hey..quit gathering wool over your new clothes." Dean said, clearly Sam had missed the last paragraph of his diatribe.

"Sorry." Sam said, buttoning up, admittedly his brother looked good in the duds too...Dean fit in anywhere in any time and any era..he was classic. Sam felt like an overgrown puppy generally all the time. "What were you saying Dean?"

"Forgot now." He grumbled, fiddling with his collar, "We need to figure out who put us here and how to get out."

"Cas?"

"Why would Cas throwus back again? I'll try to call him, gotta be a church or something around here somewhere."

Sam nodded, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked in the mirror on her dresser, he lookd pretty good...strangely felt at home and in place in these duds..."Dean..is it weird to you there's a child in a brothel?"

Dean paused, his hand on the door handle, "A little bit." He mused, then shrugged, "Not our business, come on we gotta try to get back home."

Sam nodded following him.

Amber sat on the front porch, watching Anna do her letters with a idle eye, more focused on the passing town and the two stray men she'd let in walking towards the church at the opposite end of the main street. They were odd...they didn't seem like they fit in...not just in the small town, but...in this century. Their clothes were weird too...she'd gathered them up and put them in a bag for them earlier..the material was ...different and there were cloth tags on them that told you how to wash them...pretty nifty invention she thought. She sighed...she wished John were here..he'd know what to do. She blinked away the tears and the sudden hot burning grief that coursed through her heart at the thought of him, after the pain usually came guilt and she didnt wanna think about it today. But as usual, grief has its own mind and the hot tears spilled over her cheeks anyway. She refused to let the little girl see her cry again, knowing it would just remind the child her friend was dead, she stood up, roughly telling Anna to stay on the porch and walked off, following the two stray men.

The church was open and they slipped inside, it was rustic, simple, and smelled of history and old wood...Sam inhaled deepily. There wasn't any other room a minister could be hiding so Dean started off "Cas...if you hear me you better answer...we're back in time...again...usually you leave a little bit of an explanation." He said, his tone was half hearted and frustrated almost...they both waited...listening. "God damnit Cas!" Dean swore loudly. He turned on his heels and stormed out, barely missing their little follower as he headed towards the salloon.

Amber turned, "Your brother seems a little upset." She mused, watching Sam.

Sam huffed, "Yeah..just a little." He sighed, "Did you follow us?" He furrowed his brow. She nodded.

"Is your real name Sam?" She asked, when he nodded, "Mine's Mary...they just...I go by Amber...its an old nickname." She said, looking away.

"I understand." He sat on a wooden pew, shifting a bit, she sat down on the one behind him.  
"What year are you from?" She asked, her blue eyes pinning him.

"What?" He tried to act surprised but she had a no bullshit look in her eyes, "How'd you figure it out?"

"I put your clothes in a bag...most under things don't come with instruction tags and I've never seen that kind of fabric." She said, watching him, she folded her hands in her lap

Sam cleared his throat, "2014." He said quietly,

"Is it any better?" Her eyes held the same tiredness Sam saw in his own eyes often.

He sighed,"No...its not...some think its worse...but its probably just bad in its own way." He said, sighing.

"Who wins?" It was obvious she meant the current war...

"The north."

"How much longer?"

"Another year."

Amber nodded once, "Who was your brother prayin to in here?"

"Castiel..he's an angel." Sam watched her, she seemed unphased by anything he said, and it was easy talking to a familiar soul...a kindred almost.

"Your brother goin to drink away his pain I reckon." She said, when Sam nodded she continued,"YOu have no idea how ya'll got back here..."

"No...its happened before, but we always have a reason and have been told why...hell I dont even know where we're at"

"Missouri...little tiny town thats probably not even there anymore in your century." SHe mused, watching him.

He shifted a little uncomfortable with her soul-searing gaze.

"Either you're witches or your hunters." She stated. Just...said it. Put it out there.

He raised his brows, "How?"

"No one prays to angels or time travels orhas the weapons you boys do. You left this in my room." She handed him Ruby's knife with a knowing look. "Trust me, Sam, there's demons in this century too." She said softly, her eyes haunted.

"Are you?" His point was clear.

She shook her head, "I'm whatever I need to be to survive. You have til the week is out to find your way back or it wont get pretty for you."

He quirked a brow.

"Our madame..." SHe looked away, "She's been possessed for a good five years...I...I've done everything I know...it wont leave her." She turned her eyes on him, "Except for the day it jumped into my husband's best friend and shot my husband in the head..." She said hoarsely. "So either you boys get your shit together and get home to where you belong or you help me kill the bitch."

There was just so many questions that story raised...Sam just nodded.

The whiskey was strong and Dean liked it that way, he ordered the bottle and just sat there at the rustic bar ,shooting them back, trying to think...maybe it wasnt Cas...maybe...Abbaddon? Crowley? Metatron? Gadriel? Any hundred names that wanted him and Sam out of commission. However, Crowley needed him to kill Abaddon, and vice versa...Gadriel would more likely separate the brothers then send them both away...which only left Metatron. "Son of a bitch." He muttered, he stood and left, fully intending to come back and pay andwent to find Sam, finding him and the redhead still in the church talking. "I need to talk to you." He said to his brother.

"So do I.." Sam stood, Amber followed...he looked down at her. "She knows...she wants to help."

Dean looked at her, "Can you find us ingredients for a summoning spell?"

She smirked, "Give me til lunch. "

"What'd you figure out in your bottle of whiskey, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Metatron." He stated.


End file.
